Ignorance
by owlishwolves
Summary: ((This will contain spoilers for my story, Revenge is Deadly if you have not read it to chapter 11!)) There's a lot Cammie doesn't know about Zach's past. What exactly happened between him and the mysterious ACE? What are their secrets? What drove them to seek revenge so desperately? Are they overacting, or is it rightly earned? Secrets. Answers. Lies. Deception. Revenge.
1. Blown Away

_**"There's not enough rain in Oklahoma to wash the sins out of that house.  
There's not enough wind in Oklahoma to rip the nails out of the past.  
Shatter every window until it's all blown away,  
Every brick, every board, every slamming door, blown away!  
'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left left of yesterday.  
Every tear soaked whiskey memory blown away!" **_

_**~Blown Away, Carrie Underwood**_

 _ **~O~**_

 **Alyson**

 **Age 7**

 **~o~**

"Zachary Goode, give me back my knife now!" I yelled. My brother had taken it _again_. I didn't think he liked that I was better than him at throwing- and most other attacks. It's not my fault he never tried hard enough to hit the dummy in the chest.

"Ally, I don't think we should be playing with them," my brother said, holding my knife over his head. I don't know why. We were the same height. I sighed and crossed my arms.

"Mom gave them to us," I huffed.

"Yeah, but I think it's dangerous to play with them when she's not here," Zach said, placing the knife back into the box. I don't know why he always had to ruin the fun. The day before, he had stopped me from trying to reach mom's gun. I had just wanted to see if I could get it without her noticing.

I stomped over to my red bing-bag chair in the middle of the room and plopped into it. "It's not like Mom does anything to stop us when she is here," I muttered. "Besides, she says we need to start practicing on our own if we want to join the Circle."

Zach sighed. He looked at me for a while, then walked over to the lock he had been cracking. I was _so_ bored. Mom left about three hours ago to on 'urgent business' and left us to do what we wanted until she came home. We finished the little bit of school she had given us and had decided to go to the training room. Knives were my favorite weapon. I stood up and decided if Zach wanted to take my knife, I would take his lock.

"Alyson!" Zach yelled when I yanked the lock out of his hand- after stomping on his foot. I stuck my tongue out at him and dashed up the stairs and out of the training room that was our basement.

"Ally!" I heard his cry echo behind me. The walls flashed past me, fading wallpaper and scuffed wood. I liked our house. It was big and there were lots of places to hide and run. It was old and a little broken though. Mom would talk about fixing it sometimes. She said we could make it look nice again, like when she was a little girl.

The hardwood squeaked under my feet. I scowled at the sound of my own footsteps on the wooden floors while I ran. Mom and Aunt Laura said a Circle member has to silent when escaping. Squeaky footsteps are not silent.

I tried to put most my weight on the balls of my feet and kept pulling upwards with every step like they taught us, but I could still hear the squeaking. Then, I noticed it wasn't only my footsteps I was hearing. Zach had decided to chase me and was about fifteen feet behind me. I grinned. I always loved tag.

Not slowing my pace or turning around, I called, "Run, run, as fast as you can, Zachy!"

I heard a growl behind me as I ran up the stairs and into my room, laughing. Zach and I used to have rooms across from each other, but he was a big baby and moved downstairs two years ago because the storms scared him. The storms were fun to listen to- most of the time. They cracked and made the house groan. From my room you could see the flashes of lighting and hear the howling wind. It was cool. I liked the storms. I wasn't scared like Zach. Even when the thunder was really loud and kept me up at night, or the lightning would make the shadows look strange, I stayed in my room. I refused to be scared.

I would tease Zach about leaving. It would always make him mad.

The storms weren't scary. And even if they were, a Circle member doesn't show fear. Mom never did. Fear is weakness- that's what they told us. Zach was a baby for showing fear. I couldn't be like that. No matter what the storms sounded like.

Zach burst into the room after me and lunged. I sidestepped and shrugged. "Need something, Zachy?"

"Don't. Call. Me. Zachy."

I laughed as he lunged again, this time grabbing my arm. I raised my eyebrows. "Well, are you actually going to try to get it back?" Zach never tried when we spared. He always let me win. I always wondered if he could beat me if he tried. I doubted it.

Zach let go and held out his hand. I rolled my eyes and handed him the lock. "Why can't you ever have fun?"

My brother rolled his eyes, a playful smirk sliding across his features. "Fun?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

My eyes widened, and I dashed out of the room. I heard Zach laugh and follow me. We thundered down the stairs again. Halfway down I felt Zach grab my arm, and I tried to twist away. I failed. The result was both of us tumbling down the rest of the stairs and landing sprawled at the foot of the steps. I was about to get up and kick his butt, when two black boots stepped right in front of me. Both Zach and I glanced up to see a tall woman in dark jeans and a brown jacket looking down at us.

She raised an eyebrow at us. "Having fun are we?"

Zach and I stood up quickly.

"She started it!"

"I was about to kick his butt!" I said, hugging my mother's leg. I followed Mom as she took off her jacket and walked to the living room.

"You were not!" my brother cried.

"Was too!"

"Not!"

"Was!"

"No, you were n-"

"Oh, come on, Zach. She was," a clear voice cut my brother off. Zach and I turned to see a girl slightly younger than us standing in the doorway. She had black hair and clear blue eyes. Her face was round, and she had a few light freckles across her nose. "The statistics based on all previous matches indicate that Alyson indeed was about to kick your butt, Zach," she said with a small giggle.

"Clara!" we cried. Clara was Aunt Laura's, mom's sister, daughter. She spent the night whenever Aunt Laura was helping the Circle with research or a mission. It didn't happen often, but it was always fun having another girl around when she was with us, even if she was always reading or singing or something else strange.

Zach gave our cousin a hug while I turned to Mom. She was going around the room, looking for something.

"Mom?"

She didn't answer, just kept going trough the shelves.

"Mom!"

"What?" she snapped. That was weird. Mom never yelled at us. She normally would shoo us away if she didn't want to be bothered, never yell.

"Um, why is Clara here?"

Mom shook her head. "Not now, Alyson."

"Is Aunt Laura-"

"I said not now! Go do something with your brother and leave me alone for a minute," she said. Then Mom went back to pulling things off the shelves.

Frowning, I turned and went to talk to Zach and Clara in the hall. Clara was showing my brother the new book on computers her mom bought her. Clara was weird. She loved learning about computers and would rather read or mess around with a laptop than spare or practice with weapons. I didn't understand what was so interesting about working on a computer when you could go out and be in the field doing things, taking things, and fighting people.

Zach looked up when I walked to them. "Hey, Clara was just telling me about her new book."

Clara nodded. "Mom gave it to me before she left."

"Left? Left where? Mom didn't tell me anything."

Clara shrugged. "I don't know. Mommy said it was really important, and she wanted to give this to me before she left."

I groaned. Zach looked at me. "What?"

"Mom is acting weird. She was looking for something, and she snapped at me," I said. "I want to know what's going on."

"So?" Zach asked. "She was probably busy."

"Mom never snaps at us though. Plus she was going through the entire shelf. I think something is happening, and I plan on finding out what."

Zach shook his head. "Ally, maybe we should stay out of-"

"Oh, Zach, don't be a killjoy! We're going to be spies! I'm going to find out what's going on. You can help me, or you can stay out of my way. Your choice," I told him, crossing my arms.

Zach groaned. "Fine. I'm in."

I grinned. "Excellent!"

~O~

"Alyson, mom's a spy. I'm sure she's going to know you're trying to get information from her."

We were in my room, planning the best way to get Mom to tell us what kind of mission Aunt Laura was doing and why she was looking in the shelf. Zach hadn't been very helpful. He kept saying things I already knew and wasn't making a big effort to help. I was just glad he wasn't trying to stop me. I wanted to prove to Mom, and to him, that I could do things myself. I didn't need Zach to do things.

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the confidence in your sister, Zach."

"I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying. I don't need you to walk me through things. I can do this."

Zach sighed. "Fine."

I turned to Clara, who was sitting on my bed reading. "What did you say happened when your mom left?"

Clara didn't move.

"Clara?"

Zach poked her foot and got kicked in the arm. Clara still didn't look up.

I leaned onto the bed. "Hey, you!"

Clara jumped and dropped her book, her eyes wide. "W-what?"

Zach started laughing. I asked Clara my question again. She furrowed her eyebrows. It looked funny because her eyebrows were really thin on her round face.

"Well, before she left, she was on the phone for a while. When she hung up, she gave me my book. She called it an early birthday gift; it was funny because my birthday is not until next month. Anyway, Mommy said she wanted to give me the book before she left. Then she told me to stay home and mostly in my room until she got home-"

"Wait, why did Mom bring you then?" Zach asked. I shushed him.

Clara shrugged. "I dunno. Mom left, then Aunt Catherine came and told me Mommy wanted me to stay with her for a little while."

I nodded. I liked asking Clara questions with Zach. It made me feel grown up, like we were real spies.

Zach looked at me. "Why do you think Mom was looking in the shelves?"

"I don't know, but I think I can find out."

There was a loud crashing noise downstairs. All three of us jumped. I heard Mom yell something. She sounded angry. Clara, Zach, and I crept downstairs. We wandered around all the big rooms in our house, following the sound of Mom's voice; she was still yelling things in a different language. I wondered what made her so upset. Most of the time Mom was calm. The only thing I remembered making her mad was when the Circle didn't listen to her. Mom wasn't leader, but her boss normally listened to her advise. When he didn't, Mom was more cranky. When Mom was cranky, Zach and I had to train alone, and sometimes Mom would leave on a mission for a few days. Zach and I were responsible, Mom said. We could take care of ourselves when she had a mission, though sometimes Aunt Laura would take care of us. I wonder if Mom being upset had something to do with Aunt Laura.

We found Mom in one of the extra bedrooms. She was surrounded by notebooks and was pacing around the room. Zach and I looked at each other; Mom never freaked out. What was going on?

"Mom?" I asked, walking into the room. Clara and Zach followed me.

Mom didn't hear me. She was sorting through the papers and notebooks. I walked to the bed and picked up one of the books. It had writing on it, but it was coded. I knew a little of the code though. After a few minutes, I was able to read a few sentences. It looked like an account of a mission with Aunt Laura. Why was Mom getting upset and looking at these?

The paper was ripped from my hand. "What do you think you are doing?" Mom yelled.

I flinched. "N-nothing."

Mom scowled. "Oh, don't flinch like that. Who said you could be in here? Never mind. What do you want?" she snapped.

I just shook my head. Mom never acted this way. She didn't yell at us. She wasn't mean. She never acted like that. I told myself that she was just stressed about something. Whatever was going on was messing with her. Even her eyes looked funny. They were too wide. Too angry.

Zach stepped closer to me and Mom. "We wanted to know why Clara is here."

"Because she is. Now go play or something," Mom snapped, turning away from us.

"But-" Zach started.

"Out!" Mom yelled. Clara dashed out the room quickly. I could tell she was scared. No one ever yelled at us like that. I didn't like it. Zach and I didn't move. I wanted to know what was making my mom act so weird.

"Mom, what's going on?" my brother asked.

Mom growled and grabbed my arm, pushing me out of the room. Her grip was tight. Too tight. It hurt. I stumbled out of the room.

"Ow!"

"Mom, let Ally go. Mom?" Zach grabbed her arm.

I didn't think I'd ever forget what happened next. Mom twisted around and smacked my brother. It was so quick, so shocking. Zach and I just stood there for a second. I didn't know what to think. Mom let go of my arm and went back to the room. She started mumbling things under her breath. Zach and I rushed out of the room.

I turned to Zach. His cheek was red, and he kept squeezing his eyes shut.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded. We walked to my room in silence. I don't think we could think of anything to say. We were too shocked. We found Clara reading in my room again, only this time she was reading Peter Pan. Where she got it, I have no idea, and at the time I really didn't care.

Zach and I just sat there for a while. After a while it got dark, and Zach went to his room. I couldn't sleep. Nothing that had happened with Mom made sense. Normally Mom was fun. She let us do what we wanted mostly. But when she told us stuff, she was never loud. She never yelled. She definitely never hit us. When she was home, she was mostly quiet, or working. She liked singing. Her favorite song was one about knights and castles. She sometimes sung it to us when we couldn't sleep.

Sometimes Mom would seem distant. Maybe a little mad or sad, but she never did anything to us. She liked to show us how to shoot or throw knives when she was like that. Or she would tell us stories about missions, or about her childhood. Mom liked to go on missions a lot. She wanted to be in charge at work I thought. Lot's of times she would complain about her boss. He made her mad sometimes. Even when she was angry she never yelled or hit us. She was a good mom. I thought it was cool how she let us do things by ourselves. She treated us like we were grown up. We were going to start our real training for the Circle soon.

After a long time, I couldn't sit still anymore. Clara was still reading. In the quiet house, I could hear thunder in the distance. A storm was coming. I liked that. It didn't feel like it should be calm outside when I wasn't calm. I wanted to know what was going on.

I rolled myself off of the bed. Clara kept reading.

Quietly, I made my way back to the room where Mom was. The door was closed, but not completely. There was a small crack where I could peek through. Mom was on the phone with someone. She looked worn. Her hair was really messy, like she had put her hands in it a lot. She was walking in circles while she talked.

"- I don't care what she did, you can't just- What?- Can't you ask him not to- Ugh!-"

I wondered who she was talking to. The way she was talking, frustrated, reminded me of when she was talking to her boss. The leader of her part of the Circle. Mom said the Circle had lots of parts. She wanted to be in charge of her part, but there was a guy with that job. Mom sometimes said she wanted to get rid of him. I didn't know how she would do that, but I thought it would be neat if she could. Maybe she wouldn't get mad at work then.

"- Has anyone contacted- Did he know?- How could he not know?- Oh, don't you put that on me! She never showed any signs of double crossing- What?- No, I didn't help her! I'm the one who told you she wasn't cut out for the Circle!-

That was funny. It sounded like she was talking about Aunt Laura. Mom sometimes said she wished Aunt Laura wasn't in the Circle. But why was she talking about double crossing? That didn't make sense. I leaned closer to the door.

"-Fine. He can interrogate me all he wants; he won't find anything- Does anyone know where she is?- No, she didn't tell Clara anything- because I already interrogated her- Oh, please, she's a seven year old bookworm, there's nothing to crack-"

There was a long pause. I wished I could hear what the person on the phone was saying. I knew there wasn't anything Clara knew that she wasn't saying. She told me and Zach everything. She wasn't good at keeping secrets anyway. After a while Mom let out a frustrated sigh.

"-Ugh, let me know if they find her- They can't eliminate her if they have no proof- I know I'm not in charge!- If he takes her out I'll kill him- I don't care if that sounds like treason; It won't be because I would be in charge then!- Don't you know how things work around here?- I don't care- Just keep me posted!"

I heard a small bang, like Mom had thrown her phone at the wall. Then I heard footsteps. It took me a second too long to realize they were getting closer to the door.

Mom opened the door just as I was scrambling back. She looked like she had been pulling at her hair, because it was sticking out in weird places. She was breathing hard, and her face was a little red.

"Mom, are you okay?"

She ignored my question. "What are you doing?" she snapped. I flinched. I didn't like Mom like that.

"Don't flinch! Flinching means fear; we don't show fear. Now answer me!" Her voice was louder now. It sounded off somehow. A little higher than normal.

I took a step back. There was a weird glint in Mom's eyes. She looked like she was either going to cry or yank her hair out. Instead, when I didn't answer, she reached out and grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. Her grip was tight- tighter than earlier. I didn't know my mom was that strong. Her nails dug into my arm.

What would have happened next, I was glad to never find out.

"Mom, what's going on? Is Ally in trouble?" I had never been that thankful to hear my brother's voice. Zach appeared behind me and slowly pulled me back.

Blinking a few times, Mom let go of my arm. She looked at us weirdly for a second, like she was trying to remember our names or something. Then she smiled. "Trouble?" she asked, her voice softer, but not completely back to normal. "No, not in trouble. She just needs to stops spying on people's conversations."

If the situation hadn't been so confusing, I would have laughed. She was training us _to_ spy on people. I decided it wasn't the best time to point that out. I tilted my head a little. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She laughed a little, but it sounded like she was forcing it.

"Is Aunt Laura okay?" I asked.

Big mistake.

Mom's eyes went hard. "Don't worry about that."

After everything that had happened that day, Mom telling me not to worry about what was going on hit a nerve. I wanted to know why she was acting weird, why Clara was here unexpected, and why apparently something was going on with Aunt Laura that had Mom upset and angry. I stomped my foot.

"No. I want to know! You said something about elimination. Is Aunt Laura in danger?"

Pain. A sharp pain on my cheek was the only thing I registered. After a second, I felt my arm being pulled, felt my feet moving, but my brain didn't begin to work properly until Zach had already dragged me all the way back to my room, where Clara was asleep on the purple bean-bag chair in the corner. I looked at my brother. He just stared at me for a while.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. I could feel the tears in my eyes, seconds from spilling over against my will. Babies and weaklings cried. I wasn't a baby. Zach hadn't cried when he was hit.

 _When he was hit_. Mom had hit both of us that day. She was acting strange. It was like she wasn't my mom- not the one I knew.

That was it. The tears started, and I hated myself for crying in front of my brother. I waited for the teasing, but it never came. Instead I felt arms wrap around me.

That's how I fell asleep, crying while my brother hugged me.

~O~

The next few days were some of the strangest of my life. Zach and I didn't talk about what had happened, but we did watch Mom carefully. Clara noticed us after the first day, and we had to tell her what had happened. She was shocked, but seemed more concerned about her own mom than what was going on with ours.

Mom had still been acting weird. She would stare out the window a lot and jump slightly when we came up to her. She would be drinking stuff from a bottle that smelled weird most of the time. We avoided her as much as we could, so we didn't know if she was still angry. The third day Zach and I made a deal to try to talk to her instead of avoiding her all day. It worked, mostly. After a few hours of Zach and I acting normal around her, she started acting normal too. She helped us with our knife throwing, tried to make dinner- then ended up getting us pizza, and she even tucked us in one night. I had started thinking everything would go back to normal. Maybe that day had been an off day. Maybe we were just being bad, or work had gotten to Mom. Either way, I was glad everything was going back to normal. I had almost forgotten about Aunt Laura. Though Clara was on edge.

Then Mom's phone rang.

We had been eating dinner (leftover pepperoni). Then the sharp ring went off. Mom jumped up and quickly answered. She went to her room and slammed the door. The only times the phone rang, it was the Circle.

Zach, Clara and I looked at each other. I pushed my chair back and started towards Mom's door.

"Where are you going?"

I didn't turn around when I answered my brother. "To listen. I want to know what's happening."

"Ally don't-"

"I want to know what's going on!"

"Maybe we shouldn't-"

I swirled around on my heel. "I don't care what we _should_ do! You want to follow some rules that you think we should, but there's no one telling me I have to! Mom's acting weird, and I want to know why! I want to know what's going on, and if you aren't going to help me just leave me alone." I didn't wait for a response and marched off to Mom's room.

The door was locked, but a simple hairpin maneuver had it open in a few seconds. I eased the door open ever so slightly, only a crack in case Mom wasn't distracted enough. She was pacing like the day before, her hand not holding the phone was waving a bottle around. I lay on my stomach and peered through the crack to listen.

"Yes, I'm alone now-Did they find her?- Is she okay? What did they do?- Sanders, don't play games with me- What happened?- Sanders, I swear if you don't answer me right now-" There was a sharp intake of breath. Mom stopped pacing and stood still as a statue. She let her hand holding the phone drop, and closed her eyes. After a minute she opened them again. It looked like her hands were shaking when she brought the phone back to her ear. Her voice trembled when she spoke again, but I wasn't sure if she was sad or mad.

"Who gave the order?- Tell me!- Damn it, Sanders, if you don't tell me who gave the frickin' order right now I will-"

She stopped and scowled. When she started pacing again, her eyes were livid.

"I'm going to kill him- No, I am! He knew she- I don't care if she was in line with the CIA! I don't care what she helped Morgan get! They killed her!" She screamed.

My eyes widened. I hoped Mom wasn't saying what I thought she was. Because if she was- if she was, it meant Aunt Laura was... No. That couldn't be it. That's not what was going on. That's not why Clara was here unexpectedly. That's not why Mom had been acting weird. That's not what was happening. It couldn't be.

There was a crash as the bottle Mom had been holding hit a lamp. Shards scattered across the floor like confetti. A few larger pieces fell in a ring around the small table. I glanced back at Mom. She was staring at the now broken lamp. Her hands were shaking, and her breaths sounded shaky. Finally, she moved. Mom walked slowly to the pieces and crouched down. Picking up a few of them she started muttering things; but I couldn't make out anything she was saying.

A hushed voice from above me made me jump.

"What do you think this means?" My brother's eyes were filled with worry as he looked down from where he was standing over me.

Shaking my head, I whispered, "I don't know."

"It means I'll be spending a lot more time with you two." Zach and I turned to see Clara standing against the hallway wall.

 _Clara._

What was going to happen to her? Was she okay? She wasn't even crying. She just stood there, holding the computer book her mom gave her- the last thing she got from her mother. As if she read my mind, Clara looked down at the book. As if she was finally understanding some riddle, she gave a small smile. "She called it an early birthday present." With that, my cousin turned and ran down the hall and out of sight. Zach and I were left staring after where her small frame disappeared around the corner. We looked at each other, utterly confused what to do. Should we go after Clara? Did she want us to go after her?

Thunder boomed throughout the house, knocking Zach and I out of the trance we had fallen into. I looked back into Mom's room. Easing the door open, I crawled into the room, ignoring my brother's whispers for me to come back. I crept towards Mom. She was curled against the wall with her head in her knees. Her shoulders were shaking, and with a start I realized she was crying.

I had never seen my mother cry.

Standing up in the center of the room, I could hear a little of what Mom was saying. She sounded hysterical.

"-wasn't supposed to be there- I n-never wanted to go- Why'd you make me go- She wouldn't be in this- Your fault- Never there-"

I wasn't sure who she was talking to. Who was never there? Make her go where? I took another step closer to her. "Mom?"

Mom's head snapped up, her red hair sticking to her tear soaked cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy. She scowled. "Get out!"

"But-"

"I said out, you little brat!" Mom grabbed a shard of glass from the broken bottle and send it flying at me.

Eyes widening, I dodged the glass but not fast enough. A stinging pain trailed along my shoulder. Looking down, I saw the cut. It wasn't deep, it didn't even start bleeding a lot; it only sent a fire through my upper arm.

I almost tripped as I ran out of the room and pushed past my brother. I head the door slam as I ran up the stairs into my room, slamming my own door behind me. Zach came knocking within a few seconds.

"Ally? Let me in."

I walked to the door and sat against it.

"Ally, come on."

After a few minutes, I heard my brother walk away. I sighed, finally letting the sob I'd been holding out.

I refused to let my brother ever see me cry again.

I wasn't sure how long it was latter that I stopped crying; my arm stopped hurting. Not long though, because I had only started to hear the rain pound against the roof and walls. Opening the door quietly, I crept out of my room. I just wandered around the house for a while, making sure not to walk under any of the leaks from the roof. Passing one of the hall closets, I heard a few sobs.

When I opened the door, I didn't see anything, but I knew she was there. "Clara?" I whispered.

It took a minute, but eventually a flashlight shined in my face. From the top shelf of the closet, my cousin climbed down and stood in front of me. It looked like she had paint on her face and hands. She held something out to me. I took the paper, curious.

 _Clara, if you've found this, I'm sorry. I love you. I didn't want to leave you- but there was something I had to do. You won't understand right now, but you will someday. I had to help someone keep some dangerous information safe. I love you, Clara._

It wasn't signed. I looked up at my cousin. She had tears in her eyes, but she wasn't crying anymore. I held my arms open. She ran into them. I just held her for a while, rubbing her back.

After a few minutes, she whispered, "It was in the last page."

~O~

Hours later, when I thought Clara was asleep, and I was lying in my bed listening to the storm rage outside my window. It was louder than before. The wind sounded like howling. I glanced up just as a flash of lighting streaked across my window. I had never noticed how strange the shadows looked. The following drum of thunder made me jump- had it always been that loud?

My blanket slipped off my bed as I sat up and walked down the hall. My bare feet hit a few puddles as I crept down the stairs. The shadows moved strangely as I passed them. I was nearly shaking when I opened the door to my destination. I walked to the bed slowly, careful not to step on any figurines that littered the floor.

Zach jumped before I even touched him. "Ally? Are you okay?" My brother's voice was groggy as he sat up slightly. I nodded.

"Do you need something?"

I shook my head. The thunder that followed the blast was louder than any of the previous ones. I couldn't help myself- I jumped... a lot.

In the flash of lighting that lit up the room for a second, I saw my brother raise his eyebrows. I expected Zach to laugh. Alyson Goode- the one who wasn't a baby, who made fun of her twin brother, who was better at throwing knives- she was scared of the big bad storm. The laugh never came. Zach simply pulled the blanket out further and scooted over on the bed.

I crawled onto the bed next to him.

Zach wrapped his arm around me and hugged me. "Is your shoulder okay?"

I nodded.

"Good."

We were silent after that. Zach didn't go back to sleep; I didn't even try to sleep. We just lay there, listening to the storm. I didn't cry anymore that night. I couldn't. There was no time- no place for me to cry. Clara was the one who got to cry. She was the one who just lost her mother. Zach and mine, she wasn't gone. She was hurt. I knew she was still there underneath. We just had to wait and help her.

"Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?" The question floated into the room, much like the person who asked it. Clara crept into the room and climbed onto the bed next to us. She didn't wait for an answer to her question, but she was right. It seemed that past week had changed everything. I couldn't help the feeling that things were only beginning to change. No one knew what the future would bring. I had to be strong. No more crying. I had to stay strong; I had to train hard, and not take anything lightly. It was time to be a big girl and deal with the change.

After a while, Clara and Zach fell asleep.

I stayed up, listening to the screaming of the wind. With my cousin and brother there, the storm wasn't scary. It was powerful. Most people were scared of power. I couldn't be for any longer. Power was what I was going to need. As another streak of lightning lit up the room, and the wind howled and beat against the walls, I almost wished it could blow the house away. Shatter all the windows, every brick and board, until everything was blown away. Then we could go somewhere else. The storm could blow our past away, then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much trying to get used to the change.

Maybe it could blow all the memories away too.

 **.oOo.**

* * *

 **I'm sorry it was so long, but there's the first installment of the prequel to my Gallagher Girls story _Revenge is Deadly._ I hope you enjoyed it and please review. (Please note I may change the title to this story)  
**


	2. I'm with you

(Apologizing in advance for any mistakes. This hasn't been fully edited.)

 **"** ** _Isn't anyone trying to find me?_**

 ** _Won't somebody come take me home?_**

 ** _It's a damp, cold night_** ** _,_**  
 ** _Trying to figure out this life_** _ **,**_  
 ** _Won't you take me by the hand?_**  
 ** _Take me somewhere new,_**  
 ** _I don't know who you are_** ** _,_**  
 ** _But I...  
I'm with you."_**

 ** _~I'm With You, Avril Lavigne_**

 ** _~O~_**

 ** _Age 9_**

 _~O~_

It was raining. It was cold, and she wasn't home. She promised she would be home by now. Where was she? At a party? On the road? She said she would be home by midnight this time. It was one-thirty. I didn't really care where she was particularly, but I did care where the Big Mac she promised me was. Cheetos and Slim-Jims were an iffy dinner to begin with. Then added to the fact we had run out of Froot Loops the day before, you get why I was more worried about the location of my burger than my mother.

She had left early too. Around noon, promising to buy something for me if I just sat tight and didn't cause trouble- unlike last time she left. Though I still think the thirteen year old was being a little over dramatic for only having his finger broken. If he hadn't wanted me to break his finger, he shouldn't have tried to take my bike. Granted I took the bike from him a week prior, but that was old news. It should have shown that he wasn't fit to have it if I could take it from him in the first place.

Anyway, the point was I was hungry, and Mother wasn't back yet. I really hope she didn't forget to come home this time. It'd happened before, but at least then I'd had a full box of Frosted Flakes, and leftover wings from the night before. She'd come home two days later and passed out on the couch. It took her ten hours to wake up, but that was actually a good thing, because that had been the day the cops came to check the apartments. I didn't open the door, Mom didn't make a sound (which only happened when she was passed out), and Jugg, the guy who ran the place, lied and said that we left the last week and never came back. It was as good a day as I got. Unlike today.

My stomach growled again. I almost considered risking a trip out to the corner store about a block away, but I knew that she had probably paid Jugg to make sure I stayed inside. Which I had. I'd been throwing darts for most of the day. Darts were my hobby. Most girls played with dolls. I threw sharp objects at targets. I had found a few dart boards in the dumpster a few months ago and decided it was more fun than coloring all day. Now, I had a nice set up. There were five boards in different places all over the room. I could turn and aim at a different board anywhere in the apartment. It didn't take long for me to get decent aim. After a few months, I'd started stealing more darts so it would be more of a challenge.

I had to steal them because the one time I asked the woman with the money, she complained that she already had to pay to feed me and didn't want to pay anything else. I'd learned not to ask, just take. Mother always said I was more trouble than I was worth. Which might have been true since I was constantly being accused of stealing something- only accused because when it finally came to it, the kid was always too scared to tell on me, and I was smart enough not to be caught buy the store cashiers- the one's who actually cared.

If it wasn't the accusations, she would complain that I was eating her out of a life. Which was ironic considering I knew for a fact most of the money she got was being spent on bottles of drinks. She was drinking herself out of a life in my opinion.

Another quarter-hour of dart throwing later, I was tired of waiting. Opening the window, I leaned out to make sure no one was around to see me. It was pretty dark, any light from the moon blocked by the rainclouds. Oh well, the dark never scared me, and the rain- so what? I was going to get wet. Who cared? I was more concerned about my empty stomach than a little water.

A hiss escaped my mouth when the freezing water hit my skin. I made my way down the ladders and dropped the last four feet to the ground, then I was running. It normally took me about five minutes to get to the corner store, and though I wasn't scared of the woman who lived with me, I didn't feel like getting caught.

To anyone who hadn't lived here their entire life, the alleyway between Lancaster Av. and Ridgemont would seem gross, smelly, and possibly scary to wimps. Trash and other filth covered the pavement, making the whole placed smell like a dumpster. Most likely the giant piles of garbage were actually guys trying to keep warm. There were also the women and guys who lived in the building with me and Mother. I avoided most of the freaks. I'd learned a long time ago who to talk to, who to run from, and who to con. After all, who was going to look out for a 'little, whiny brat' as Diana called me. Jugg was the only one who might remotely help me if I asked. Not that I ever would. This was survival of the fittest. The fittest didn't ask for help.

The lights inside the store flickered when I opened the door, a tiny bell alerting the clerk someone was inside. The floor was stained, and the various items on the shelves were disorganized. There was an aroma of cigarette smoke coming from the counter where a woman was asleep with her head in her arms. Her head jerked up when she heard the bell, frizzed platinum curls sticking to her lipstick. She looked like a clown had given her a makeover.

"Eh? Who's that?" Her voice had a southern twang that did not mix well its nasally pitch.

I rolled my eyes and roamed the shelves of beef jerky, chips, and sodas. "No one, Tallulah. Go back to sleep."

Tallulah scrunched her nose as if the smell of smoke and beer affected her the same way it did me. "Oh, It's you." She looked over my wet state, and frowned. For a second it looked like she was deciding to ask why I was wet or tell me something about getting water on the floor. Instead, she leaned back against the counter. "Wha' you doin' in my shop, Edie? Momma out again?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You shouldn't be here. I got better things to do than watch a mini brat."

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed a bag of chips covered in cheese powder, a Slim Jim, and a Coke. "Don't call me Edie," I muttered as I made my way back towards the door. I hated that nickname. Edith was bad enough, why make it worse? It's not like my name was long or hard to say.

"Ay! Where you think yo' goin' with that?"

Really? She just told me I shouldn't be here, then asks where I'm going? I shrugged. "Home." I looked back at her. "Or did you want to chase me down the road and try to make me pay," I glanced at the sign over the shelf. "Six dollars?"

Tallulah rolled her eyes and lit a cigarette. After a puff, she pointed to the door. "Just go."

I gave her a mock curtsy and fake accent. "Pleasure doing business with ya'." Then I made my way out into the pouring rain again.

Getting back to the building took about ten minutes, though most of it was due to me eating the Slim Jim as I ran. Throwing my bag of chips onto the platform above me, I pushed off the dumpster and jumped the the few feet onto the platform. After that, it was only four floors up to get back into the apartment. My heart caught in my throat when my hand slipped from a bar, causing me to drop the last of my jerky.

Swearing under my breath, I quickly pulled myself up and through my window.

Ten seconds. I had ten seconds of relief before I realized that the lights were on.

"Where have you been?" For someone so freakishly thin, Diana could reach volumes I didn't know were humanly possible.

"I told you to stay here!" She marched across the room and grabbed my hair. I thought my ears were going to burst. "You little brat! You never listen!"

There was a pause, so I took my cue. I pouted my lips and looked down as if I was ashamed, when I was really looking at the clock. _One twenty seven._ She was _two hours_ late. I nearly yelled back at her for it, but I didn't feel like getting smacked. Instead I bit my lip. "Sorry, Mother."

"Oh, don't give me that!" She released my hair, and I stumbled. "Go to bed. I'm done. You're too much." With that she grabbed a bottle from the fridge and walked out the door. I looked around the room, my eyes searching. When I didn't see what I was looking for, I picked up at dart and sent it at the door. Sighing, I grabbed my chips and sat on my bundle of blankets.

She didn't get me my burger.

oOo

"Up! Get up!" She ripped the blanket off of me. Freezing air washed over my legs. I scowled, but sat up.

"Get dressed." Diana snapped her fingers. "Now."

"Why?"

She scowled. "Because I said so, you little-" she cut herself off and shook her head. Then she did something that sent a wave of confusion through me. She smiled. "We're going to the park. I saw one yesterday and figured you'd like it."

Fifteen minutes later, I was twirling a dart between my fingers as my mother drove. I still couldn't make sense of what she was doing. Never in my short nine and three quarter years had she ever shown more interest in me than keeping me alive. Now she was taking me to the park? I glanced back at the woman driving. Her dark hair was covering most of her face, but this morning her eyes didn't have the crazy look in them. In fact, this was the most sane I'd seen her in weeks.

Diana caught me staring. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, we're here. Get out."

I got out. She got out. I looked around. She looked at me. There were swings, slides, kids, everything you'd think would be at a park. After a minute of me standing there, my mother shoved me forwards.

"Well, go play or something!" she said.

Fingering my dart, I crept towards the swings. I knew what to do, but it was still tricky getting myself started. I'd never done it before and somehow I ended up swerving side to side while I swung. Behind me, a boy laughed. Scowling, I jumped off. It may have not been the greatest idea considering I was pretty high up, but I landed fine, making sure to put the impact on the balls of my feet and bend my knees. I didn't even wobble. When I glanced back, the boy was staring at me with wide eyes, then he shook his head and ran off.

"That was impressive." I jumped back, my head whipping around at the unexpected voice. A man with dark hair, and uneven ears was standing two feet from me. I hadn't seen him walk up.

The man smiled and raised his hands slightly, like he was trying not to scare me. "Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you."

Rule number one of living in the alleyway: don't admit fear.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not frightened."

"That was an impressive jump."

Shrugging, I glanced back at the swing which was still swerving up and down. "That was nothing. I jump from higher anytime I sneak out of my apartment."

"I see." He nodded. "Do you sneak out often?"

"Only when I need something." I paused. "Or I'm bored."

The man didn't respond; he only nodded again, then took a step backwards. After a few seconds, he tilted his head. "You should get back to your parents." Then he walked away.

"Yeah, not happening," I mumbled to myself.

A while later, I'd forgotten about the man and was swinging again. If I was being honest, this was the most fun I'd had in months. Which made me stop kicking my legs instantly. I glanced at the sky. It was getting late, not that we'd gotten to the park early or anything, but it'd been at least three hours and Mother hadn't dragged me away yet. Scanning the crowd of kids and adults, I bit my lip. It wasn't like Diana to let me enjoy anything for this long. A jolt went through me when I didn't see her in the crowds.

I looked over the faces a second time before I let my heart rate accelerate. When I came up empty the second time, I let the adrenalin flow through me.

She wasn't there.

I shook my head. Of course. Of course she wouldn't stay. She was probably gone doing who knows what. Rather than telling me to stay in the apartment and have me sneak out, she simply brought me to a park and left. A grin spread across my face. This was the best day ever.

For the remainder of the day, I played, climbed, jumped, and ran until I was too tired to move. I sneaked two hotdogs and an ice cream pop from the man with the cart when I was hungry. When I finished the pop, I threw the stick in the can by the slide. By then the sun had set, and I was the only one in the park. I sat on the swing and waited, content for once in my life.

It didn't last.

I'm not sure how long I waited. Hours? The moon was high by the time I realized I was falling asleep on the swing. My butt was sore, and my legs stiff. There was a sickening feeling worming its way into my gut, but I wouldn't let myself dwell on why. She would be back. There was no way to tell time here, and she didn't come home until three am some nights. I moved to the slide and lay back on it. She would be back, and I knew how to survive until she was.

oOo

She wasn't back.

I woke up when the sun rose, my neck hurting from lying at an angle all night. There were people jogging on the trails around the park, but no one paid me any attention. I couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Either way, I was still alone. Diana hadn't found me, but that could be due to her being loopy and forgetting I was here. She would be back today, after she woke up and remembered. Then she'd probably get mad at me for still being here, but she would be back.

She always came back. Eventually.

The day passed relatively quickly. People came and left. I played with the dart I'd brought. Most people paid me no attention, but I did notice the guy from yesterday was here again. I shrugged it off; he probably just brought his kid. By the time the sun was starting to descend, I was starving. The trick to get a hot dog I'd used this morning wouldn't work a third time. I had to find a different way to get food. I couldn't see any stores, but that was due to the trees around the park. They didn't let you see anything. So I decided to get above them.

It wasn't hard. All I had to do was climb the monkey bars, pull myself up so I was standing on top of them, and walk across the bars until I was able to hop onto the roof of the playset.

When I was tall enough to see the end of the block, I grinned. There was a corner store across the street, and I needed to practice my shoplifting technique. I pushed off the roof and hopped from bar to bar until I was low enough to jump without breaking a bone. It was still a big enough jump to make me roll when I landed though. I almost ran into someone. Then I noticed who.

"What are you doin' here again?" I asked the man from yesterday.

He raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

"How do you know I don't live there?" I pointed to the block of houses that surrounded the south side of the park.

The man shrugged. "I don't."

Narrowing my eyes, I decided I didn't like this man. There was something _off_ about him. The way he stood, the way his shirt looked really faded and old, but I noticed the small embroidery had a 2008 on it. No shirt can get that old looking when it's only the end of April. I don't care what you did to it.

The man looked at me like he was trying to see what I was doing. I walked away, not bothering to finish the conversation. Most people don't notice little things, but I did. Living like I did, everyone wanted to survive, to have the best. There wasn't anyone willing to give up whatever little they had. You had to find a way of knowing who to trust, who to talk to. I found out small things can mean something big. Normally my gut feeling would turn out right. That guy made me uneasy. I'd have to watch him.

When I made it to the store, there was a lady coming out. She was on the phone, and her hands were full of bags, her purse dangling from her arm. A smirk slid across my face. Too easy.

The lady didn't have a chance when I walked between the the same two cars she did, forcing her to press against one. She scowled and continued talking on the phone, while I waited two seconds, then slid my hand into her purse.

Once I was inside the store, I grabbed some peanut butter crackers, a water, and a few apples. Then I paid with a ten dollar bill that I took from my pocket and walked out of the store. After that, I hid behind a car and waited five minutes. While I waited, the lady came back and went into the store, a frantic look in her eyes.

Taking my cue, I grabbed her wallet from where I'd hid it and ran back into the store.

"Excuse me, sir? I found somethin' in the parking lot!" I yelled. Then I paused, tilting my head and holding up the wallet as the man and woman stopped talking and looked at me.

"Oh! My wallet!" The woman gasped. "Thank you!" She took it and hugged me, not noticing or maybe not caring I was sweaty and had dirt all over my t-shirt. Then she was gone, after thanking me and the man again.

I could tell the cashier was going to ask me about the money, but then the door opened again, and a familiar voice rang out. "There you are, Martha."

The man behind the register looked up while I swiveled around to stare at the man from the park. My brain scrambled to understand what he was doing when he walked over, took my hand, and explained that he got worried when he sent his niece into the store for some snacks and she didn't come back for a while. To my amazement, the man behind the counter believed the man from the park. Then there was nothing I could do but walk out with the man, unless I wanted to be caught.

I tried to take my hand back when we were out of the store, but the man with an strange shirt and black hair just held on tighter.

"That was an impressive performance."

Glaring, I hissed, "I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go." I tugged, but he still had a good grip.

"Where's your mother?" There was something in his eyes. It wasn't concern. No. There was a squirming sensation in my gut when I realized, it was _hope_. What did this guy want?

"None of your business. Get your greasy hands off me!" I stuffed my free hand into my pocket as he turned us into an ally away from the park. My fingers brushed something, and I had to hide my grin.

"It's just a questi- OW!" The man released my hand when I jabbed my dart into his wrist. I yanked my dart back and did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

Of course, he would catch up to me eventually if I didn't think of something to get away. My mind whirred as I thought of what I could do. Already, I could hear the man's footsteps. He was about twenty yards behind me by now. If I could slow him down enough to hide, I could double back and make my way to the park. Maybe Mother was there now. It was nearly dark, and there were clouds moving in. I could hide fairly easily if the man was distracted for a few seconds.

He was getting closer, only about ten yards away now. I glanced at the dart in my hand. It was simple. A twist and flick of the wrist would free me, but I couldn't miss. I'd never missed before, but that was in the apartment. This was a whole different game.

Baring my teeth, I let myself flow through the motion. I let the dart become part of my hand as I twisted around. I let the energy and momentum launch it to the exact place I wanted. I didn't stop moving to see if it landed, but I grinned when I heard the cry of pain.

I risked a glance back to see the man holding a hand to his face. Then I dove into a dumpster.

It took a few minutes for him to pass me. When he did I could hear him muttering to himself. I only picked up a few words though, including, "promising," "stubborn,""tell Catherine," "circle," "recruit," and "excellent." That last one made my stomach curl the most for some reason.

When he was gone, I crept out and made my way to the park. It was empty, probably because it looked like it was going to rain. I scanned the small parking lot and the curbs around me. Not a car in sight.

I bit my lip and went to sit on the swing. She couldn't forget two days in a row. Normally she told me to do stuff for her. She'd notice there wasn't anyone to help her. I just had to wait a little longer. Other kids waited for their parents to pick them up all the time. Of course, other kids had parents who didn't think they were a waste of space.

A waste of space.

A shiver went down my spine. Diana had called me that more than once, but that was just her. Just like leaving me alone all the time. Or complaining when I asked for something. Once she'd said she had no idea what she was thinking when she ran away to have me. I'd heard her say all kinds of things after she drank a lot of the gross stuff. It wasn't true though. She took care of me.

Except when she was gone all day, or asleep all day because she gone all night. Or she forgot to get me my food. Or when she would complain, and send me away because she didn't want to deal with me.

Thunder crashed above me and rain started pouring. I ran to the roofed part of the play area. The bridge was the only place long enough for me to move around while I thought.

Mother didn't really do anything with me since I started getting older. She used to play with me when I was very little. As I got older she'd been meaner. More forgetful. I thought about what she'd said two nights ago.

 _I'm done. You're too much._

I'd figured she'd meant she was done for that night, but playing yesterday's events in my head a dread started to build in my stomach. The way she was trying to act nice. The excitement in her eyes. Her smile. She'd decided to rid of herself of her burden. My eyes stung and my throat burned.

My mother was never coming back.

I was never going home again.

My eyes burned, and after a few seconds, I realized I was crying. My stomach ached, and I couldn't decide if it was with sadness or anger. How could she do this? She'd just _left_. No goodbye, nothing. She just left me behind like I was nothing.

Another sob burned my throat. I just sat there. Nothing but the rain to hear me crying.

Wasn't anyone trying to find me? Won't somebody come take me home?

No. The only person who might have cared if I existed left me here. She couldn't be bothered with me anymore. I was something she could just drop and move on like nothing. I was someone no one would miss. No one would look for me. I didn't have a home. Maybe I never did. Could that apartment where I grew up even a home?

 _It was a damp cold night, and a nine year old girl was sitting all alone on a toy bridge trying to figure out her life._ It sounded like a sad story in a book.

I'm not sure I sat there. Could have been hours, I don't know. But eventually, I sneezed.

Someone said, "Bless you."

Spinning around, I stood up. There was a woman standing behind the bridge, holding an umbrella. She smiled warmly, though her piercing green eyes stayed slightly guarded. I hadn't heard her walk up, and there was no way of knowing how long she'd been there watching me.

The woman tilted her head to the side. Her auburn hair, frizzy from the rain, fell to the side of her face, sticking to her cheek, but she didn't push it away. She only stared at me. I realized after a second that was gauging my response.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, trying to clear my face of emotion- which was hard after crying. "Thank you."

"Are you alright?"

I nodded, wiping my face on my sleeve.

The woman acted as if finding a girl alone at a park in the rain was normal. At least she didn't ask me why I was there or where my parents were. Instead she watched me for a second. I met her stare. It felt like a challenge. After a few seconds, it felt like the woman was reading me. Whatever she saw, she must have liked because her eyes lit up, losing the guarded look.

"What's your name?" she asked.

I didn't answer; instead I studied her. The woman didn't ask why I was staring at her; she just waited. Her face was pretty, but she almost looked sick. I could tell she was thinner than she normally was; her cheeks were slightly sunken in, and her eyes were hollow, even when she smiled. Her long coat hung too loosely too her frame, and her hand was gripping the umbrella too tight. She looked broken; it was a look I knew too well. But this woman was different than others I'd seen. She looked strong, even chipped. The more I stared at her eyes, the more differences I found in her than what I was used to. This woman was still fighting. She wasn't completely broken; it was more like she was lost, like she'd lost part of herself.

That made two of us.

"I don't tell my name to strangers."

The woman nodded. "I understand." She paused for a second, then continued. "Well, I found you because I represent a program for kids with special abilities-"

"I'm not going. That's what they say when they want to take you to the crazy shack!" I'd be dead before I went there. I may be alone, but I wasn't crazy! For a sickening second I wondered if that's why _she'd_ left me here. For those people to pick me up and lock me up. The only thing worse than being left was being locked up.

The woman raised a hand. "Calm down. I'm not here to take you anywhere."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm only here to talk to you. I believe my friend did quite a bad job of introducing himself earlier today."

A growl made its way into my words. "The man I had to run from?"

She nodded and sighed. "I'm sorry about that. He's terrible with children, but we were impressed with your throwing ability. You'd make an excellent knife thrower in our program."

I bit my lip. "You from the circus?"

The woman chuckled. "No." She glanced around, then leaned forwards. "The program I'm talking about, they find kids with talent like you and train them. If you joined, you would learn to throw knives, combat, how to be seen when they want to, or better, to do whatever they want without getting caught."

Narrowing my eyes, I looked for any bluff in the woman's expression. The offer was too good. There was no way, if the program even existed, that they would want me.

Then I remembered what the man had said. He'd called me impressive more than once. He hadn't gotten me in trouble for stealing the woman's money, no he'd helped me. When he passed me, he'd been mumbling about recruits and how excellent I was. A name floated into my memory.

I looked at the woman again, sliding under the bridge chain and standing in front of her. "If I did go to this program, Catherine, wouldn't you have to talk to my parents."

If the woman was surprised I'd used her name when she hadn't told me, she didn't show it. In fact, she seemed excited. She tilted her head. "Why would I do that? It's you who's going or not. You should be able to decide where you want to stay." She nodded her head ever so slightly to the toy bridge I was standing on. "It's your decision." Her voice was firm. I bit my lip. She knew I'd been left. After a second of letting me think, she asked, "Are you sure you won't tell me your name?"

I bit my cheek. Edith was what _she_ named me. Not only did I hate the name, now I hated what it meant. When you name something, it's because you have a right to- because you own it. Diana didn't own me anymore. She'd left me behind. Why should I still have the name she'd given me? I wasn't hers. I was my own person. I controlled what I did. So, what was my name?

"Evelyn."

When I looked up, Catherine held out her hand, a smile on her face. "Well, Evelyn, what do you say?"

The options rolled through my head. I could stay here, a weak little girl who'd been left alone, unwanted by the woman I've always known. Or I could go with a woman I didn't know who wanted to teach me to survive, and live my way.

Was there really a choice?

I took her hand and grinned. "I'm with you."


End file.
